Of Board Games and School Days
by Fire The Canon
Summary: A collection of unrelated one-shots for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry challenge. Chapter 4: AngelinaGeorge.
1. Been So Long

**_Pairing: Alastor Moody/Ambrosius Flume_**

**_Year 1 – Ravenclaw – Astronomy_**

**_Magical, Joyful, Orange_**

**_Word Count: 455_**

* * *

**Been So Long**

Honeydew eyes glistened in the fading light. A hint of orange-tinged hair moved into the back of the shop, and returned with a smiling face moments later. Slender hands passed over three Sickles as change to the young boy who had just purchased a bag of Chocolate Frogs. That said boy left with a joyful glint in his eyes, the last of the Hogwarts students to head back to the castle. The shop was now empty – apart from its owner, Ambrosius Flume, and another with a wooden leg and a magical eye.

"Evening, Alastor," Ambrosius said in a deep, meaningful voice. "What can I do for you?"

Despite the wrinkles that came with old age, and the callused hands, the owner of Honeydukes was still as handsome as he had been in his Hogwarts days.

The man called Alastor approached the front counter of the sweet shop, his wooden leg creaking as he walked.

"It's been years, Ambrosius," Alastor said calmly.

"Yet, you don't look at all different. Still missing a leg, I see?"

"Still rotting children's teeth, I see?"

Ambrosius chuckled. "Are you here for a reason, Alastor?"

"To see you, of course."

The sweet shop owner's smile faltered. "Alastor…."

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist; I know you have a wife." Yet… he couldn't help admiring the handsome features of his old friend, remembering the time he had confessed his true feelings. But… he'd been turned down just as quickly as the words had spilled from his mouth.

It had taken him months to recover.

"I heard you were back… back from a year of being kept in your own trunk."

Alastor's lip curled. "Yes… rather unpleasant."

A magical glint appeared in Ambrosius' eyes, and he chuckled again. "My wife would love to have you for dinner," he said. "It's been so long."

"No, no, I must go. I have business with Dumbledore to attend to." That was true, of course, but the other truth was he still couldn't bear the thought of Ambrosius being with another.

"Very well. But make sure to come round another time, Alastor. There is much you need to tell me."

Alastor nodded. "Of course. Well… farewell, Ambrosius."

The older man nodded, smiling. "Farewell, Alastor."

Their eyes met, and for a moment – just a moment – Alastor hoped he'd reach out his hand. But, of course, one's feelings could not change.

With his wooden leg clunking against the shop's floorboards, Alastor departed the shop. It was growing dark now, and without a backward glance to the man he'd loved since he was seventeen, he made his way back along the path, ready to face the many questions from Albus Dumbledore.

Unfortunately, he had better places to be.

* * *

_**So, I'm messing around with pairings haha. This whole collection will be for Uni's Hogwarts School challenge. Basically I have to complete a year in a month. Sorry if some of the pairings get weird. I'm... um... having fun.**_

_**Your reviews would be much appreciated anyway!**_


	2. For the Love of Cats

**_Pairing: Mrs Norris/Morag MacDougal_**

**_Year 1 – Ravenclaw – Potions_**

**_Accio, Someone must cry, Stunning_**

**_Word Count: 2 136_**

* * *

**For the Love of Cats**

Morag MacDougal had always loved cats. When she was four, she'd been given a white, fluffy cat for her to look after. She'd called it Snowy, and had treated the creature like her child.

Morag and Snowy had been best friends. They went for walks, they played together, and Snowy learned of all her deep, dark secrets.

She'd never felt so safe before, and she didn't care that she knew not a single sole other than her parents in human form. She didn't need other friends. She had Snowy.

Then one day, as she followed a trail of spiders along what appeared to be a perfect, well-kept street, Snowy spotted another cat.

Not used to the company, the poor creature bolted in fright, meowing as she ran from the street.

Morag followed, calling out to Snowy to come back, that she didn't need to be afraid, but, of course, the cat didn't understand. She continued running, Morag's legs unable to keep up, and before she knew it, a car had hit her best friend.

"Snowy!" Morag cried as the car came to an abrupt stop, the driver looking disgruntled that his day had been interrupted.

"The bloody creature," the stranger grumbled, getting out of his car to examine Snowy.

Ten-year-old Morag heeded the man no attention. In the middle of the road, she kneeled before Snowy, cradling her in her arms, tears leaking down her face. "Snowy," she sobbed. "Wake up!"

"The thing's dead," the man said unsympathetically. "Listen, I'll give you our phone number and you can get your parents to call me, alright? I'll pay for a burial or whatever. Just move it off the road."

Too upset to comprehend much else, Morag obeyed. She carried Snowy to the footpath and rested her on the hard ground.

"What's your phone number, girl?" the stranger demanded, taking out a notepad and pen from his car.

Morag gaped. _Phone number?_ What was that?

"Well?" The man was becoming very impatient, and he kept glancing down at his wrist watch as if he really had to be somewhere else.

"What's a phone number?" she asked quietly.

"What's a –? Is this a joke?"

Morag – wide-eyed with fear – shook her head. "No."

"Very well." He put the notepad away. "I must be off, then. Er… sorry about your cat." He didn't look sorry at all. "Goodbye." And without another word, the man got back into his car and drove off, leaving a scared and devastated Morag on the footpath with her dead cat.

She cried even harder.

h-p

A year later, when she arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, she came with another cat. A grey one this time. Short fir, grumpy, yet blessed with stunning blue eyes that caught the attention of any passers-by.

Morag didn't love him – Smoky – like Snowy, but he was a loyal friend, and trusted familiar.

He was the perfect pet for school.

Being at Hogwarts was very daunting, and frankly, more terrifying than anything she'd ever experienced before. Even that time when she was five and her father had spent a good hour yelling at her because she'd broken about five wizarding rules by accident didn't compare to sitting on that stool in front of everyone and waiting for the hat to declare her a Ravenclaw.

There were plenty of cheers, and her fellow Ravenclaws welcomed her warmly to their house, but she didn't make friends all that quickly.

Padma and Mandy became the best of friends after two days. Lisa Turpin was a too focused on her studies to care about much else.

So Morag was left to fend for herself. On her very first morning of classes, she woke to an empty dormitory. When she reached the Great Hall for breakfast, Professor Flitwik was hurrying along the table handing out timetables. Once she received hers she thought that maybe one of her roommates might have waited for her so they could find their way together.

But, she'd been too quiet for anyone to realise she needed a friend, so she was forced to find her way herself.

She had Potions with the Hufflepuffs, which she knew were in the dungeons, but somehow she managed to find herself on the top floor and with no way of getting back.

She was wandering along a corridor that looked as if it hadn't been used in years when her path was blocked by a cranky looking cat.

For a moment she thought that maybe Smoky had followed her, but as she drew nearer, she realised the cat had significantly different features. It was much older than Smoky, and didn't seem to appreciate her being there. It hissed and screeched at just the sight of her, and tried to claw her when she reached out a hand to pet it.

"I won't hurt you," she said soothingly. "Maybe you can help me find my way to Potions." Morag had always been good with cats – they always seemed to like her – but this one seemed different. Rather than accepting her offer of friendship, it glared at her, meowing indignantly.

"You there!"

Morag jumped as a bedraggled little man came hurrying towards her, looking rather out of place with his long hair, missing teeth and grumpy expression.

"S-sorry, sir!" Morag stammered. "I-I'm just going to Potions."

The man sneered. "Bit of a way from there, aren't you?"

"I got lost."

"Well, you best be on your way, then, or maybe next time Mrs Norris won't be so nice in finding you skipping classes."

Morag wanted to tell him that Mrs Norris had definitely not been nice to her, but she held her tongue.

"Well, off you go! Don't want to be put into detention on your first day now, do you?"

Morag definitely didn't want that, especially with what she had heard about Mr. Filch – which she realised was whom she was talking to.

She eventually managed to find the dungeons – at the very end of the lesson. Professor Snape was far from happy with her, and she ended up with a detention from him anyway.

"Seven o'clock tonight, Miss MacDougal," he sneered. "Don't be late."

Morag left the class that day to many giggles and whispers. She'd just done a fantastic job and making herself known at Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, it was not in the way she had ever hoped for.

h-p

That first day, however, was probably the biggest impact she had throughout her whole schooling year. No one really came close when one shared classes with Harry Potter. He was always the centre of attention.

Many people – Lisa in particular – resented that fact. Morag, however, cared little.

_Let him be famous_, she thought as Lisa ranted in their third year to their whole dormitory about how bloody frustrating it was to be shoved to the sidelines all the time. But Morag didn't care that he was the youngest Seeker in a century; nor did she care whether or not he had survived Lord Voldemort as a baby.

Did it matter? Her parents said Voldemort would come back one day; that he wasn't really gone.

So Morag was just waiting for that day.

She felt Smoky curl up at the end of her bed as she drifted slowly off to sleep, Lisa's cries of frustration becoming softer and softer, until fading out completely.

That was the night she dreamed of Mrs Norris – Filch's cat.

It wasn't odd for her to dream about cats – after all, Padma had dubbed her the cat whisperer the way all seemed to be drawn to her – but it was almost as if Mrs Norris had a brain one size larger than the average cat.

She didn't like Morag. Despite her many attempts to get Mrs Norris to like her, she'd always dob her into Filch instead.

"Just give up," Padma sighed one afternoon as she chased the cat on the bottom floor. "Not every cat's going to like you."

"_Accio_ Mrs Norris!" Morag whispered, her wand pointing to the poor creature.

Padma snorted with laughter. Morag scowled.

"Come on, we'll be late for Potions. Snape is just looking for an excuse to give us all detention. I heard he was in a foul mood this morning."

Watching the tail of the most confusing cat disappear around the corner, Morag relented and followed her fellow Ravenclaw to the dungeons.

She'd find a way with Mrs Norris one day.

She'd prove everyone wrong.

h-p

To her distress, however, everyone proved to be right. Mrs Norris was loyal to one person, and that one person definitely did not like her. Even during the days that Snape was headmaster, and the Carrows took pleasure in torturing anyone who didn't acknowledge Voldemort as the leader of the wizarding world, Filch didn't care.

Morag joined the so-called Dumbledore's Army because she realised it was her only safe place. Hogwarts was dangerous now. Dumbledore was dead, and it had Death Eaters roaming the halls, teaching them how to kill.

On the nights she had to sneak in and rescue poor first years in the dungeons, she feared Filch and Mrs Norris perhaps more than being caught by the Carrows. It wasn't that either of them enjoyed Voldemort's return to power, it was more the fact they hated every student in the school.

One night, as she listened at the door as Amycus Carrow taught a second year Slytherin how to use the Cruciatus Curse on a first year Ravenclaw, she felt a brushing against her legs.

Startled, Morag almost cried out, and stopped only at the very last moment. "Smoky, what are you doing here?" she hissed, but when she looked down, it wasn't Smoky, but Mrs Norris against her.

"Go away," she whispered.

The cat meowed, and looked up at her with those intelligent eyes that had always amazed Morag.

"Don't tell Filch," she warned.

Mrs Norris didn't move.

"Go!"

From inside the classroom, the first year screamed, and Amycus cackled.

Morag cringed.

"Very good, very good," he was saying. "That should be it for the day. You've done well, Mr. Nott."

"Sir, what about the student?"

Their voices were edging nearer to the door, but Mrs Norris was in Morag's way.

"Go away!"

"She will stay here for the night," Amycus told her. "To recover."

The door opened slightly, and in a moment of panic, Morag dived behind the wall of the next corridor. Mrs Norris' eyes followed her, and she silently begged the cat to not give her away.

"Bloody cat!" Alecto growled, aiming a kick at Mrs Norris.

She hissed in anger, and then bolted in the opposite direction to where Morag was hiding.

"A student out of bed?" Amycus wondered.

Morag held her breath. Carrow was so close to her right now that he only needed to turn his head and she'd be the one under the Curse. But his attention was in the direction Mrs Norris had gone, who was hissing and screeching from somewhere along the dark corridor.

"On your way, Mr. Nott."

The boy hurried off. When he was out of sight, Carrow closed the door to the classroom and then went in the same direction, muttering something about it possibly being the students in hiding.

The moment he was gone, Morag made for the door. The poor girl was curled up in a ball against one of the walls. Her wrists had red marks around them where it looked as if she'd been chained, and she was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Shh, it's okay," Morag soothed. "I'm a Ravenclaw, too. Do you remember me?"

The girl shook her head, shying away from her.

"I won't hurt you," Morag promised. "I know a safe place we can hide, if you'll come with me."

The girl look set to refuse, but there must have been something on her face that convinced her otherwise, because she accepted Morag's offer to help her to her feet, and followed willingly until they reached the Room of Requirement.

It hadn't been until hours later, when she'd been lying in one of the hammocks the Room had provided that it even occurred to her that Mrs Norris may have been helping her.

She'd always thought that cat had been smarter than just your average cat, and she hadn't given her away to Carrow when she'd caught her spying.

She didn't want to believe it, but perhaps – just maybe – her constant attempts to win the moody creature over had paid off. Just maybe her kindness had brought Mrs Norris to help her at exactly the right moment.

She'd never know for sure, but the feeling warmed her as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

They needn't give up just yet. They still had friends inside the castle walls. They just had to know where to look.

* * *

_**This was also written using prompts from the first game of Cluedo I ran over at the Quidditch League (Mrs Norris, Morag MacDougal, Cruciatus Curse & Privet Drive). And, the man who hit her cat was Uncle Vernon... I just couldn't really say that because I was writing from Morag's POV and she wouldn't have had a clue.**_

_**I hope you liked! I had fun writing it :)**_


	3. Trained to Kill

**_Pairing: Morag MacDougal/Blaise Zabini_**

**_Year 1 – Ravenclaw – Defence Against the Dark Arts_**

**_War, A character must fall, Attractive_**

**_Word Count: 2 248_**

* * *

**Trained to Kill**

She'd been sitting in the quiet, secluded part of the library when they came for her, grabbing an arm each and pulling her roughly from her chair. The copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ she had been reading fell to the floor, opening to a page about the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling.

"Come with us," the voice to her right whispered, and she recognised it instantly as one of Draco Malfoy's cronies. She never did learn the difference between Crabbe and Goyle – they were just as big and stupid as each other.

"I've done nothing!" she cried, fighting their hold on her. But they were way too strong. If she pulled any harder, she'd end up with a broken arm.

The two beefy men dragged her all the way out of the library, through corridors, and onto the Hogwarts grounds, where the cool night air whipped her face bitterly.

"Where're you taking me?" she demanded. "Let me go!"

"Quiet!" hissed one of them. "Shh."

"Not until you tell me where you're taking me!"

She received no answer, and they led her all the way to a big tree – the Whomping Willow, wasn't it?

She'd heard stories about it; stories that it'd attack anyone who went near it…. "Get off me!" she cried as one of its low branches was about to knock all three of them off their feet.

"Stupid girl!" Crabbe, maybe, hissed. He shot a spell toward the tree, and as if it'd been hit by a Stunning spell, stopped dead in its track.

Morag gaped.

"In," he then instructed, pushing her forward. For a moment, Morag thought she was going to slam right into the tree, but to her surprise, there was a gap… a tunnel. She was _inside_ the tree.

"What –?"

"Move."

She had no choice. With the two big figures of Crabbe and Goyle behind her in such a small space, the only way out was to go forward. The space was low and narrow, and all three of them had to crawl.

And it took some time, too, before they came to a place where she could stand. "Where are we?" she demanded. They'd reached what appeared to be a room… a house, perhaps? There were steps leading up, and that was obviously where she was expected to go. Goyle – she thought it was Goyle at least – jabbed his wand into her back.

"Up," he grunted.

Morag obliged, and soon, she was thrown into a room with nothing but an old bed and… "_Blaise?_"

The young Slytherin man shook his head nervously – a warning, perhaps?

"Ah, so we _are_ on a first name basis?" A shadow of a figure Morag had not previously seen emerged from a corner of the dark room. Although she'd never met her personally, she'd seen enough wanted posters around to know it was Bellatrix Lestrange. And she was supported by Alecto and Amycus Carrow.

"Tell me, Blaise," Bellatrix's voice chirruped, "Is this the little blood-traitor you've been… _playing_ with?"

Blaise said nothing; he simply watched her with expressionless eyes. Even when Bellatrix used her wand to open a gash on Morag's arm, he didn't react. Even when Morag howled in pain, he stood firmly where he was, watching as if nothing affected him.

"Well, Blaise?" Bellatrix demanded.

"She means nothing to me." He spoke with such sincerity, that even Morag believed him. Her bleeding arm meant nothing compared to her breaking heart. That was not what he had told her when they had…. A realisation washed over her, and if she hadn't been in a room with six other Death Eaters, she might have cried.

Bellatrix cackled. "Oh, look, she thought you loved her," she said to Blaise. "What a darling."

"I-I'm a Half-blood!" Morag said. "I have proof. My great grandfather was a Muggle, but everyone else is magical!"

From behind her, Crabbe and Goyle grunted. It sounded like they were laughing.

"Your blood status is not important, dear. It's either the Dark Lord, or death."

Morag swallowed.

"Then I choose death."

Her heart pounded in her chest as the words escaped her mouth before she'd had a chance to think about it. She was no Gryffindor – she wasn't willing to sacrifice herself for the greater good. She didn't want to die.

She just wanted to go back to the library, or the Ravenclaw common room. Somewhere that was safe.

Bellatrix's manic laugh filled the small room, and Morag shied away. _Just kill me_, she thought. _Kill me now and be done with it_.

But there was no such luck. Bellatrix wasn't going to make it so easy, nor were the Carrows. Alecto stepped forward.

"Tell us where your little group of friends are hiding, and we may let you go," she sneered. "Otherwise," she took out her wand, "things will get exciting."

Dark wizards were only capable of using three spells, and Morag didn't want to be one to experience any of them. But she wasn't going to betray her friends either. There was Padma and Lisa and Mandy and Padma's sister, Parvati. If her death meant their safety, then there was no decision needing to be made.

"Blaise, here, claims he doesn't know, but I don't think that's true. You see, we tell the ones we love everything."

Morag shook her head, not daring to look at Blaise. No, he'd been using her. He didn't love her. He'd only told her that to get information from her.

But, she suddenly realised, he'd never asked her. In all the nights they'd spent in each other's arms, he'd never once asked her where she was hiding. All he had told her was that he was glad she was safe, before pressing kisses along her neck, holding her… loving her.

"He's trying to protect you."

"No, no… it's not true!" Morag cried. "He knows nothing!"

Bellatrix grabbed Blaise around the neck, her wand pointing to his chest.

"Tell us, or he'll die."

Morag shook her head, silently begging for this to all just be a bad dream. Perhaps she'd fallen asleep in the library. It wasn't uncommon for her to dream about Blaise; but normally he was making love to her, not watching her imminent death.

"Make her!" Alecto hissed, growing impatient from Morag's stubbornness. Morag watched in horror as she pointed her wand right at her chest, a sneer forming on her lips.

_This is it_, she thought. She was going to die in some old shack with six Death Eaters. Her body would never be found. Her body probably wouldn't even exist after they were done with her.

"_Imperio_," she said.

Morag remembered Professor Moody making them go under this spell to teach them how to fight it. She'd never managed it, and this time was no different. The moment the professor had uttered the words her free will was gone.

_Tell us_, a voice in her head demanded. _Where are you hiding?_

Somewhere in the far distance a cry of _no_ could be heard. But Morag couldn't distinguish it. She didn't want to say it, but her tongue had other ideas.

"R-Room of Requirement." _You idiot!_

_And how do you get into it? Tell me._

"You must walk past the wall on the seventh floor three times, thinking about what you really want. A door will appear, and then you can go in. But it won't work when somebody else is using it." _Yes!_

There was a scuffle from somewhere, and suddenly, Morag had control of her mind again. She was still in that same room, but Carrow, who had used the Curse on her, was on the floor. Bellatrix was screeching loudly and Blaise… Blaise was on top of Alecto Carrow.

"You disgusting piece of shit!" he was crying, struggling to take the wand from her. "You used the damn curse on her."

"Gerroff me!" Alecto was saying. Her brother and Bellatrix were trying to pull Blaise from him, but in his rage, Blaise was stronger than all of them.

In the sudden fiasco, Morag lay forgotten on the floor, and she took that as an opportunity to run. She scrambled to her feet, stumbling once or twice, before making it to the door. She never stopped the think that Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be seen, and slammed straight into one of their large bodies.

"Not so fast," one said gruffly. He grabbed her by both arms and pushed her backwards. She landed onto the hard ground, a loud _crack_ distracting everyone.

Morag howled as a searing pain shot up her right arm. At a quick glance down, she noticed that it was facing the wrong way.

Through her tears, she saw Blaise push off Carrow, and a moment later his arms were around her. "She needs a hospital," he said.

The others appeared not to have heard him. Bellatrix was watching him with mild amusement and slight distaste. "So, it is true," she mused. "Our dear Blaise has fallen in love."

Morag felt him hold her tighter.

"She's done nothing to you," he spat.

"Since when did you become so… kind?" Bellatrix spat back. "Up, both of you." They were lifted to their feet by Crabbe and Goyle.

Bellatrix eyed them with disgust, shook her head, and then instructed the others to leave. When they had gone, her expression darkened even further. "You're both blood-traitors," she accused. "_Crucio_!"

Morag felt a searing pain shoot through her body. Even her broken arm didn't compare to the intensity of this curse. She wanted to put on a brave face – to not let her know she was hurting – but a scream escaped her lips anyway, and tears trickled down her cheeks.

As soon as it had come, the curse lifted, and Bellatrix cackled.

"You can both stay here… to die," she told them cruelly. She gave them one last scathing look, and then left the room. The others followed.

"Blaise…" Morag whispered through the pain. She buried her face into his chest, the pain in her arm worse than anything she'd ever felt before.

"We're in the Shrieking Shack," he explained calmly. "Bellatrix has probably blocked the exit through the Whomping Willow, but there are other ways out of here. Just bear with me."

Morag looked up at him with tear-stained eyes, sniffing. "I-I thought you meant what you said," she whispered.

He seemed confused.

"That-that I meant nothing to you."

If she had expected his eyes to soften at her words, she had been sorely mistaken. "Of course I didn't mean it," he said gruffly, moving around the room to search for perhaps another way out. "I thought that if they thought that, then they'd go easier on you. But I should have known… they knew all along."

Morag held her breath. "Knew what?"

For a moment, there was silence, and then, "How I felt."

"Oh."

Once it was clear he couldn't find another way out, he returned to her, soft lips against her temple. "It'll be okay," he soothed. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

Morag believed him. There weren't many people who liked Blaise – or saw past his cold exterior – but she knew he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He loved her. She knew that much.

"How's your arm?"

"Okay." It was still bent way out of shape, but the aftereffects of the Cruciatus was still coursing through her, numbing the pain of anything else.

"It looks awful."

"It does." She gave a dry laugh.

From somewhere in the distant, a cry of _Avarda Kedavra_ could be heard and Morag cringed at the sound. It sounded very much like Bellatrix, and she hoped against all hope that the curse – whoever it had been directed at – had missed.

Many students had been tortured over the past months, but she hadn't heard of any deaths.

"Probably just a rat or something." Blaise tried to sound indifferent, but it was obvious that he was worried as well. Everyone was worried; everyone who didn't agree with what Voldemort did was worried.

"Thank you, Blaise," she said tearfully. "Thank you."

"I've done nothing," he replied. "I should have protected you better."

She shook her head. "No," she said. "No. You did what you had to do."

"I still can't get us out of here."

"We'll find a way, Blaise, I promise. And… I'm glad I'm not here alone." She smiled weakly. "I'm glad we're together."

Blaise visibly swallowed, and then nodded. "And I'm glad I can be here with you," he said. "Now, just relax. Sleep. I'll wake you when I think of something."

Morag, suddenly feeling wearier than she'd realised, rested her head against the cold wall of the room. She didn't know how long she'd been asleep for (minutes, or it could have been hours) but she was woken by Blaise lifting her carefully to her feet.

"We can get to Hogsmeade," he said. "Come with me. There has to be a Healer there somewhere. They can help."

Morag got unsteadily to her feet, her full weight resting on Blaise. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Don't thank me yet," Blaise said. "We've got some way to walk yet." And he helped her across the room, opening a door that she swore hadn't been there before.

With careful hands, he helped her out, following behind. Suddenly, they were standing in the cool night air, on the way to Hogsmeade.

"Let's just hope there's no Death Eaters," Blaise said. "Otherwise, we're screwed."

* * *

_**Normally I don't update this quickly with anything, but I've had these written for a while. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm actually really intrigued by this pairing now.**_

_**Don't forget ti review, pretty please!**_


	4. Compromising

**_Pairing: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley_**

**_Year 1 – Ravenclaw – Charms_**

**_Someone must jump on a bed, Alice Blue, It wasn't until she looked into his eyes that she saw the truth_**

**_Word Count: 1 926_**

* * *

**Compromising**

Angelina had been the only one available to babysit little Albus. Harry and Ginny were taking James to the park to meet a friend. Ron and Hermione were too busy with their own toddler who had also reached the stage of terrible twos. George was working in his shop, and other relatives apparently lived too far away despite the ability to Apparate or Floo.

She wasn't fond of kids. Not really. Certainly not enough to look after one by herself, but she'd agreed anyway. Harry had seemed really desperate when he'd asked.

"You'll be fine, Ange," George assured her just moments before Harry arrived with a fussy Albus in his arms. "It'll be good practice."

She'd glared at him. "Good practice for what?" she demanded.

"Our own kids."

Angelina's eyes narrowed even further. That was a topic George knew not to discuss; however, he never missed an opportunity to sneak it in every once in a while.

"Oh, it's really not that bad," George continued, planting a kiss on her cheek. "And, if you need me, I'll just be downstairs. Maybe if Al becomes restless, take him down there anyway. Take him to the little one's section. Kids are entertained for hours there."

Angelina took that offer as a very serious one. George vanished from the apartment just as Harry Floo'd into it, Albus instantly letting go of his father's hand, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Thank you so much," Harry said. "It really means a lot."

Angelina waved him away. "Not a problem," she lied. "We'll have a great time."

Albus had already found the sweet jar George liked to keep on the kitchen bench.

"Albus, no!" Harry grabbed his son's arm, dragging the whining child to the living area again. "Remember what we talked about, Al. Be good for Aunty Angelina, okay. Do everything she asks."

Albus was struggling in his hold, his eyes already on the bed in the corner.

"Okay, I'll see you in a few hours." Harry gave Albus a quick kiss on the top of his head, and before Angelina had the chance to change her mind, he was gone, and Albus was already making his way for the bed.

His little legs struggled to climb up, but the moment he was there, he was jumping up and down, giggling at Angelina's pathetic attempts to stop him.

"Albus… Albus… stop, please."

The child heeded her no attention, but continued bouncing.

When Angelina made to grab him, he darted out of the way, laughing.

"Come here, Albus!" she said a little more firmly.

He ignored her.

"Bounce! Bounce! Bounce!" he laughed.

Angelina made another attempt to grab him, but he darted away from her again. His foot slipped on the end of the bed, and it was as if Angelina's heart went to her mouth as she watched. Without much thinking, she withdrew her wand from her pocket, and cried, "Mobiliarbus!" at the alice blue coloured armchair in the corner. It moved just in time to catch the falling child's body.

"Albus… Albus, are you alright?" She hurried to his side.

Albus, looking more bewildered than anything, hopped off the armchair, looking back at the bed. "Ouch," he said.

"Yes, ouch," Angelina agreed. She studied the boy, making sure he was okay. The last thing she needed was to send him back to Harry and Ginny in pieces.

"Okay, Al… how would you like to take a visit around Uncle George's shop? He'll show you all his cool, new toys." George was much better with kids than she was.

Albus' eyes widened in excitement. "Toy! Toy!"

"Yes, toys." Angelina picked up her handbag and made for the door. "Come on, let's go. You'll have great fun!"

In the shop, it was bustling with parents and children not that much older than Albus. Holding onto the boy's hand, making sure he didn't disappear, she spotted George with a mother and her young daughter, trying to sell them a doll that talked back.

"… and I know how lonely things can get sometimes before school, so it'll be the ultimate companion," he was saying. "It was Lee's idea, this one. Got the idea from his sister, or something." He passed the box to the mother. "Three Galleons."

"Please, Mummy! I want it!" the girl said.

"We'll see, Isadora. Let me think about it."

The girl pouted.

"That will not change my mind."

The mother dragged her complaining daughter away and George turned around to see Angelina gripping his nephew's arm very tightly, trying not to let go.

"Having fun?" he asked.

Angelina looked down at the toddler, making sure he wasn't listening, and then said, "I have a whole new level of respect for Ginny and Harry. He's a troublemaker. He was jumping on our bed, then he almost fell off, and I've brought him down here in the hopes you can distract him. My decision is final, we are never having kids."

George smirked at her, and then took Albus' arm. "Oh, come on, it can't be that bad," he said. "You just need to get down to his level." He bent down, gripping the boy's arms tightly. "Hey, Al," he said.

Albus grinned at him.

"Do you want to try out the new toys I've got in the back room? I have some that I think you'd really like."

Albus nodded enthusiastically and then took his uncle's hand as George led him to the back of the shop. Angelina followed, dodging between other devices kids were looking at.

"Now, I have just the thing you'll like, Al." He rummaged through a few boxes, but when he came back empty handed, he took out his wand muttered the Point Me charm.

"A Summoning Charm not good enough?" Angelina questioned.

"If it's in a really awkward place, it could ruin the neatly stacked piles. Much better to receive directions to it."

Angelina looked around. _Neatly stacked?_

"Aha! Here!" George withdrew a small object from one of the boxes and passed it to Albus. "Here you are, Al. Why don't you take it there and play with it?" He cleared a space on the floor with his wand and directed the two-year-old there.

Albus obliged happily, apparently enjoying his new toy.

"What exactly is it?" Angelina questioned.

"Ah, just something I came up with a while ago. Didn't really pass the safety test –"

"WHAT?"

"Oh, relax. It's not going to hurt him. It only failed because little kids can put it into their mouths and swallow it. Just watch him and make sure he doesn't do it."

"You still haven't told me what it is."

George hesitated. "It relaxes kids," he eventually explained. "It plays music only they can here."

Angelina didn't see the danger in that, and expressed it to George.

"Yeah, that part's okay, but there's something in it that convinces them the toy should be eaten. I can't figure it out. So just make sure he isn't left alone with it, and he will be fine. Look, he's enjoying it already."

Albus was babbling away to the apparent music, bopping his body up and down to some rhythm that made sense to him.

"You can stay here if you'd like. Oh, and… erase his memory of using this toy when he's done."

Angelina gave him a sceptical look.

"Harry might know about the dangers," he said. "But, look, he's enjoying it. I have customers to serve, so just sit with him for a few more hours."

"Sounds thrilling. Still no kids."

George shrugged, kissed her cheek, and then left.

Angelina sat in a chair and watched the youngest Potter boy sing along to the music. She smiled.

"Is it good music, Al?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, not looking at her.

"Oh, that's good. Daddy will be back to pick you up soon. Uncle George says not to tell him you played with it, okay?"

"Okay."

Angelina didn't like the idea at all of erasing the memory of someone so young. The only one in the family who was capable of doing it right was Hermione, and she highly doubted her sister-in-law would comply to such a request without a very good reason. She didn't think George needed to go to such extremes.

They sat for a good half an hour before Albus began to get restless. He didn't put it in his mouth, but he became bored of the musical toy and started to search the storeroom for other things to play with.

"Daddy will be back soon," Angelina said, taking his hand. "We'll wait upstairs for him."

"No," Albus said, wrenching his hand away. "Play!"

"You've been playing already. Oh, look, Uncle George is coming back!"

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Well, he doesn't like the toy anymore," Angelina replied, "So has decided to look for others."

"You remember not to tell Mummy or Daddy what you played with?" George said.

"George, asking him to lie is not what Harry or Ginny would want."

"What do you know? You don't want kids."

"It's common sense."

George ignored her, addressing Albus again. "You listen to Aunty Angelina," he said. "You be good for her and do as she says."

Albus shook his head.

"Alright, do you want to help me in the shop?"

Albus nodded eagerly. "Help!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, you can help serve the customers." George ran after Albus who'd already excitedly gone to help. "You can take the money, Al."

"Help, help, help!" Albus sang.

"Well, at least he's positive about it." George shrugged and Angelina rolled her eyes.

"At least you're not erasing his memory," she said.

"Oh, right, I forgot." He took out his wand. "_Obliviate_."

"George!" Angelina batted his wand arm away and the spell diverted to a wall across from them. "Don't do that."

"He'll tell Harry."

"Good, Harry should know you're trying to kill his son."

"I'm not."

"Then don't worry about it." She glared at him. "What is it with you Weasleys and your uncaring nature?"

"I care."

"By giving him a toy that was banned?"

George didn't say anything, but as she looked into his eyes, she saw the truth. He did care – he just had a funny way of showing it.

"Can I go back upstairs?" she asked. "You're right with him, aren't you?" Albus was picking up the Galleons customers had given, examining some, and then shoving others in his pockets.

"If you really don't want to look after him, I'm alright," George said.

"Thank you."

"Will you ever change your mind?"

"About what?"

"Wanting kids?"

For a moment, Angelina contemplated telling him what he wanted to hear, but then decided against it. She shook her head. "Nothing today has convinced me," she said.

"Not even a little bit? Look, he's adorable. And, you'll know our own kids better, so it'll be easier to control them."

Angelina shrugged. "It's just not me," she told him. "You knew that when you married me."

"Yeah… I just hoped you'd change your mind."

She nodded. "Well, maybe one day," she said. "But not in the near future." She nodded to Albus, who now had a pocketful of coins. "You really want one of them?"

George looked at his nephew also, and then nodded. "Yeah, I do," he said. "I really do… but I'm happy with you, too."

"Well, maybe we could come to a compromise," Angelina said. "One day. Maybe we can adopt."

George shrugged. "Fine by me," he said. He ruffled up Albus' hair. "That is fine by me."

* * *

_**I hope this is alright. I haven't edited it myself, so there may be a few typos in there. Please point them out, and I shall fix them. Anyway, this started out as just being Angelina/Albus, but turned into Angelina/George (oops). I hope you like, even if it was supposed to be unusual pairings. **_


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